Whitewashing
by Eternal.Angel
Summary: Ryoma can't survive without tennis. But can he survive whitewashing? FujiRyo


September 3, 2007 to September 3, 2007 (REFORMATTED May 10, 2010)

**Disclaimers:** I do not own any part whatsoever of Prince of Tennis.  
**Summary: **When you have a Sunday off, who wants to sit around and whitewash the patio table? Enjoy! _And don't forget to review please!_

------------------  
_Whitewashing_  
------------------

* * *

"Nanako-chan, good luck at college," said Rinko as she watched Nanako board the taxi to her dorm. A few months had passed and she was all ready to go to college; therefore, she wouldn't be residing in the Echizen household with her cousin, aunt, and uncle anymore – meaning that there would be more work to do for the Echizen's.

As Rinko closed the door behind her, she sighed warily, shaking her heading. She was so used to having Nanako doing all the chores for her while she went to work that the entire place seemed so empty. Now Rinko didn't feel like doing _anything_ at all, and it was her Sunday day off too!

"My, my; now that Nanako-chan is gone, the house feels so much different," said Rinko tiredly. "And I was thinking of going somewhere today to relax, too."

"Did I hear you're going somewhere, Rinko-san?" keenly asked Nanjiroh with a suspicious tone. He always tried to sneak out of the household and neglect his duties as a "monk". Not that he was one anyway.

"Ah, Nanjiroh!" exclaimed Rinko in delight, "Do the housework for me, would you? I'm going to go shopping around the mall today!"

Nanjiroh raised a brow, a smirk etched across his face. He briskly walked towards his wife and grabbed her by the wrist and leaned against her face, "Then I'm coming along."

"B-but who's going to take care of the house today then?"

Just then, Ryoma sleepily trudged down the stairs, yawning. He rubbed his eyes and stared at his two parents. "Good morning."

"Ah, good morning, Ryoma," greeted his mother. The father, however, waved a hand as his greeting and mischievously glared at his son. "Brat, your mother and I are going to go shopping in the mall today. So fix up some breakfast for yourself, clean the house, watch the temple, and whitewash our recently bought patio table, all right?"

"Huh?" he groggily inquired, confused. "Where's Nanako-san?"

"She's already preparing for college and went to her dorm this morning, Ryoma," answered Rinko, quite satisfied at her husband's idea, "So would you mind taking care of the house chores and watching over the temple today? Your father and I need a break."

"But you always have breaks every Sunday, Okaa-san. And Oyaji does nothing but read those stupid magazines," muttered the male.

"Which is why I'm taking him _away_ from those stupid articles," pointed out Rinko as she smiled. "So make sure to do everything as I asked, and also paint the patio table white. The brown doesn't match up with the décor inside the patio room."

"Tennis," he bluntly retaliated to the point. Both of his parents looked at each other and sighed at the same time.

"Ryoma, you need to take a break from tennis. You're already playing tennis everyday when you go to school."

"Tennis is my life."

"Well, you have the dullest life then, brat. Let's go and leave him alone, Rinko."

"Um, yea. Ryoma! Don't forget!" And in no time at all, the two were out the door, leaving behind an Echizen Ryoma who couldn't play tennis on a beautiful Sunday morning.

Ryoma did not know how to cook. He was too busy with tennis. So he only drank lots and lots of Ponta. And then when he tried to use the vacuum cleaner, he accidentally sucked up a chunk of the carpet into the bag.

"Che, mada mada dane, stupid vacuum."

He tore the vacuum bag from its compartment and ripped the bag open, spilling dust and all the trash everywhere. He found the separated piece from the rug and stuck it together as if a puzzle, ignoring the fact that he had to sew it. Not that he didn't know that already, but that he didn't know how to. So he reassembled the vacuum and picked up the dirt that had spilled from the bag.

When he tried doing the laundry, he added too much bleach and little softener. Most of the clothes came out clean, but they were certainly too wrinkly. He angrily hung them on the clothesline outside and walked to the backyard to head towards the temple.

The things that his father "did" were rather easy. All he needed to do was to sweep the place up. So that was quickly accomplished; but then again, there was the patio table in which he had to whitewash. Grumpily he dug through the shed at the temple and found a can of white paint and a paintbrush. Soon he began to whitewash the new patio table, annoyed that he couldn't play tennis at all. Or get his hands on his racket and tennis ball, at the least. Today, this Sunday, was the worst he had ever experienced. Besides falling into a ditch in the US, but that was just the US, and not Japan.

He began using the paintbrush, stroking the table with carefulness. If he made one mistake, it was certain his mother would torment him into hell and burn into ashes before disintegrating into nothing. If that was possible, that is. And soon he spent many hours whitewashing the surface of the patio table, slightly annoyed at how the paint wouldn't flow smoothly on the top. Irritably he made a large 'X' and randomly scribbled with the paintbrush. He had the time and patience for tennis, but whitewashing a table so that it would be white? How come his parents couldn't buy a white one in the first place?!

"Ah, so you were here all along, Ryoma."

Ryoma turned around from his whitewashing to see Fuji Syuusuke walking towards him, carrying a bag with his other hand. His upperclassman was smiling the usual, and he could not help but raise a brow at the same expression which he always showed.

"Fuji-senpai," greeted Ryoma as he tipped his hat before turning back to his whitewashing business.

"I rang your doorbell, but it seemed as if no one was home. So I thought you might be playing tennis at the temple, which is where I found you…whitewashing?" Fuji raised a brow in amusement, emphasizing the last word with a tint of pleasure.

"Not funny, but yea; I'm whitewashing," muttered Ryoma as he stroke the table's leg now. He lowered his head, facing away from his senpai.

"I just went to a birthday part that Taka-san invited me to; it was both of his classmates birthday, apparently. Even though I didn't know anyone there but Taka-san and a few of my own classmates, I had fun. I thought you would like some of the sushi that Taka-san made for…what are their names? I believe they were Beth-san and Chibi-san."

"Thanks," said Ryoma in a low voice as he reached out to accept the packaged sushi. Placing it on the grass, he continued with his work slowly, hoping that Fuji would not get involved in his business any further. He didn't have a very good day at all, especially when he flushed down Karupin's toy down the toilet when cleaning it.

Damn. Now he had to buy another toy for Karupin.

"Neh, that looks like fun. Can I give it a try?" asked Fuji politely.

"It's boring," declined the freshman as he continued to paint another table leg white.

"Well, there are always ways to make boring things fun," explained the tensai, his smile widening. Ryoma began sweat-dropping, having a very bad feeling about this.

"I'll help you anyway, fun or not," Fuji offered, sensing Echizen's insecurity. He found another paintbrush and dipped it into the can, then began painting. Soon the two were naturally whitewashing as if nothing had occurred at all.

"Ah, Echizen, you have some paint on your face."

"I do? Since when do I have paint on my face?"

"Right…" Fuji's hand neared the boy's face, "…here." He rubbed a spot on his cheek affectionately, having Ryoma flinch. Fuji only smiled and returned to his work whitewashing.

Mentally, Echizen counted his BADS list and GOODS list.

In his BADS list, there was…

Not being able to play tennis.  
Vacuuming a part of the carpet off.  
Wrinkly laundry.  
Snapping clothespins.  
Too short to reach the clothesline.  
Washing the toilet.  
Flushing Karupin's toy down the toilet.  
Whitewashing a brown table.  
Lazy parents.  
Fuji-senpai coming.

Scratch that out. Fuji-senpai coming was a GOOD thing.

So his official BADS list was:

Not being able to play tennis.  
Vacuuming a part of the carpet off.  
Wrinkly laundry.  
Snapping clothespins.  
Too short to reach the clothesline.  
Washing the toilet.  
Flushing Karupin's toy down the toilet.  
Whitewashing a brown table.  
Lazy parents.

The GOODS list consisted of:

Sushi from Kawamura-senpai.  
Fuji-senpai coming.  
Fuji-senpai helping him whitewash the table.  
Fuji-senpai rubbing the paint off his cheek.  
Fuji-senpai…

And the list went on, indicating that Ryoma was about to have a good Sunday. Even if it meant that tennis didn't exist on that day. If.

"Nanjiroh, what color sundress suits me better? Yellow or white?" asked Rinko cheerfully as she danced in front of the mirror, observing the swirls and frills of the sundress in stores.

The former tennis pro inwardly groaned. Maybe tennis _should_ have been his life.

--------  
_Owari_  
--------

* * *

**A/N:** Happy birthday to **Chibisuke Girl** and **The Rambling Narrator**. This one-shot featuring FujiRyo is **dedicated** **to them**! XD Please review and give me any feedback! I am very happy to be criticized because there is always room for improvement. Arigatou!

Ja ne, and I do not own any part of Prince of Tennis!


End file.
